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Then, as Lark blinked into the brightness of the day, her eyes adjusting to the noontime sun, she spotted a tall, broad-shouldered figure sliding into one of the white folding chairs.
A heart-achingly familiar figure.
Was it just a wishful imagining of a heart tied in knots by the romance of the day?
Hurrying to stand beside Fleur for their procession up the white carpet to the arbor, Lark couldn’t take her eyes off those shoulders. An athlete’s unmistakable, well-muscled form. Just like in the courtroom day after day, he’d shown up today when she’d needed him.
Was he quietly making up for the way he hadn’t always been around while they were married? For weeks, he’d been showing her a different side of himself and she’d been too caught up in her own fears to recognize that he’d changed. She’d accused him of always putting his team first, but for the last year—even when he’d still been on the active roster for his club—hadn’t he been overseeing his mother’s transition to living with him? She’d seen firsthand how much thought he put into making a comfortable home for her, providing her with both love and security. Even providing himself with an outlet in the mountain retreat for days when caregiving grew more difficult.
Not to mention, all his plans for a future outside of hockey with a bison ranch. His future wouldn’t be tied to a sport, and that had to be a tough transition for him.
He was changing. But had she changed enough to make a relationship between them really work?
When Gibson rose to his feet to watch the processional, she was staring at him when their eyes locked.
Held.
And she hoped some of the day’s wedding magic would rub off on her so that, after the ceremony, she could find the words to convince him to give their love one more chance.
She still took his breath away.
Gibson watched the subtle sway of Lark’s hips as she made her way up the aisle, her navy blue silk dress molding to her curves whenever the breeze blew. He wouldn’t approach her today since she’d made it clear that he wasn’t her date. But Drake had invited him, and he wouldn’t ignore the duty to a friend, so he sat in the back. Alone.
His eyes returning to Lark again and again. She’d worn her dark hair half-up and half-down, forget-me-nots woven through a braid coiled at the back of her head while the rest of the tresses fell over her shoulders, hiding the mostly backless dress.
He’d always liked that about her. The subtlety of her beauty that was never showy, as if she reserved it for those who took the time to pay attention.
And man, did he ever pay attention to this woman as she settled into her place beside her sister for the ceremony. Even as the officiant spoke, Gibson kept his focus on Lark. He’d shortchanged her during their marriage, taking her strength and independence for granted. But just because she could deal with whatever life threw at her didn’t mean she should have to. She’d deserved a partner who put her first.
Something he would do now that he’d learned to draw his own boundaries. To step away from the old pattern of being the best, being the guy his team could count on. The people he loved were important than the game.
His mom.
And yes, Lark.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Ryder’s voice as he faced his bride.
“I give this ring as a sign of my love.” The words rang out over the yard, the guy’s eyes fixed, unwavering, on Jessamyn Barclay as he lowered the band into place on her left finger.
While he spoke his vows, Gibson’s gaze sought Lark’s. Was she remembering their wedding day, too?
He thought of the vows he’d spoken four years ago, and how deeply he’d meant them. Yet he hadn’t delivered on them when push came to shove. He hadn’t been there for Lark when she’d needed him. Hadn’t let himself need her either, always so damned confident he could take care of his own problems thanks to his father’s earliest admonitions that a hockey player needed to be invincible.
Which of course, he wasn’t.
When it was the bride’s turn to speak, Lark’s green eyes shifted from his to land on her sibling.
“...to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse...” Jessamyn’s voice was steady as she spoke the words that would unite them as a couple in front of their friends and family.
He hadn’t done that with Lark, opting instead for a courthouse ceremony. They’d been deliriously happy at the time, but how could they have known what life would have in store for them? How could they have guessed how much they would need the support of a network like this one—people who’d born witness to the vows?
With the ache in his chest deepening with every word spoken, Gibson couldn’t wait for the end of the ceremony. His time he had to win back the woman he loved was running out, with her flight leaving in the morning.
So as soon as the officiant announced the couple as husband and wife, and the musical duo began a triumphant wedding recessional song, Gibson calculated the fastest way to win an audience with Lark.
There was no receiving line with such a small wedding. The reception would begin soon, with an informal meal under a nearby canopy. But for now, the wedding guests simply congregated around the newlyweds, offering congratulations and teasing marital advice. With Fleur as Lark’s co–maid of honor, those duties would be covered for a few minutes if he could sneak a little time to speak to Lark privately.
Except, in the shifting crowd around the bride and groom, he’d somehow lost sight of her.
